


Keeping Up

by Agapostemon



Series: Cardboard Castles [12]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Keith/Lance (Voltron), Families of Choice, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff, Friendship, Good Pure Paladin Silliness, Keith (Voltron) Has BPD, Keith and Shiro are Siblings, Light Angst, M/M, Matt Holt is an anxious mess, Shiro (Voltron) has PTSD, and also a gigantic dork, broganes, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 16:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9665291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agapostemon/pseuds/Agapostemon
Summary: Lance, Hunk, Pidge and Keith invented the Intergalactic Olympics three years ago to celebrate the start of spring break. It’s is essentially a 3-day-long version of their Saturday game nights, but with the hype turned up to eleven. The first event: Trivia! Will Lance and Keith make it through the night without any petty disputes? Will Pidge be able to answer any of the pop culture questions correctly? Will Hunk defend his title as the trivia champion? There's only one way to find out!Meanwhile, Shiro and Matt are catching up after a month of not seeing each other, but their conversation takes an unexpected turn.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This can be read alone, but reading [Somebody Catch My Breath](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9623495) and [Fill Me In](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9512381/chapters/21514565) first will probably improve your reading experience.
> 
> Content warnings: Cursing, some making out, one and a half very benign sex jokes
> 
> Character Ages for Reference:  
> Shiro - 30  
> Matt - 28  
> Keith - 21  
> Lance - 21  
> Hunk -21  
> Pidge - 19

**Shiro and Matt | Friday, 5:31pm**

> _Shiro (5:31pm): Hey, what time do you get released from grad school hell tonight?_
> 
> **Matt (5:31pm): just got out!!**
> 
> _Shiro (5:33pm): Perfect, because I just sent the last of the teenage engineers home. What do you think about coming over for dinner, tonight?_
> 
> _Shiro (5:33pm): Keith’s spending the weekend with his friends, so the house is empty for once._
> 
> **Matt (5:34pm): oh riiight the intergalactic olympics**
> 
> **Matt (5:34pm): sounds like a perfect chance for you to ask allura over ;)**
> 
> _Shiro (5:35pm): Matt, you’re my best friend and I haven’t seen you face-to-face in over a month. Allura is my boss and I see her at least 5x a week._
> 
> _Shiro (5:35pm): Now get your butt over to my house._
> 
> **Matt (5:35pm): i’m on it!**
> 
> **Matt (5:35pm): and honored**
> 
> **Matt (5:36pm): on it and honored**

 

 

**Intergalactic Olympics | Friday, 6:15pm**

Keith barely has his motorcycle helmet off before Lance comes bolting out the front door to scoop him up in a tight hug.

“Hey babe!” Lance grins up at Keith, who’s wearing a grimace as his boyfriend lifts him off the ground.

“Lance, you just saw me yesterday,” says Keith, his voice equal parts pained and amused. Lance puts him down and pats the top of his head, earning a playful glare.

“Yes, but yesterday was Cosmology class and today—” Lance beans, “ _Today_ is the start of the start of the Third Annual Intergalactic Olympics.”

“I’m still not sure how it’s intergalactic when there are only one and a half households involved and none of us are aliens,” Pidge appears beside them, adjusting her glasses, “but I’m excited nonetheless.”

“Probably,” says Lance.

“Probably what?” asks Keith.

“ _Probably_ none of us are aliens,” clarifies Lance, “You can never be sure.”

Keith shrugs, “Fair enough.”

Pidge nods, “Always a possibility.”

“So uh,” Keith says, “When’s opening ceremony? I’m starving.”

“Rrright now!” Lance says, doing a little spin and taking Keith’s hand to lead him inside, dancing a bit as he walks. Pidge and Keith exchange an eye-roll.

Lance, Hunk, Pidge and Keith invented the Intergalactic Olympics during their sophomore year (Pidge’s freshman year) of college to celebrate the start of spring break. The event spans the first weekend of the break, before the group disperses to visit their respective families. It’s is essentially a 3-day-long version of their usual Saturday game nights, but with the hype turned up to eleven. The opening ceremony consists mostly of eating and dancing.

As soon as they get inside, Lance makes a beeline for the coffee table and hits the touchpad on his laptop to start up the Official Intergalactic Olympics Playlist. Lance made the playlist with very little input from the rest of the group, so it’s 90% ridiculous pop music. They all love it, despite Keith and Pidge’s claims to the contrary.

The playlist starts with the event’s official theme song: Starships by Nikki Minaj. (“It’s the theme song because it’s the _Intergalactic_ Olympics!” is Lance’s reasoning.)

The sound brings Hunk skittering from the kitchen, apron on and spatula in hand, “Are we starting? We’re starting! Woooo let’s do this!” He starts to do a little dance with his spatula.

Lance joins the action by dragging a surprised and stumbling Keith into an energetic dance and belting out the lyrics at the top of his lungs. Hunk chimes in with a surprisingly melodic singing voice, holding his spatula like a microphone. (The tables turn when they get to the rapping parts, where Lance raps along beautifully and Hunk just mumbles awkwardly.) Pidge just closes her eyes, tapping her foot and moving her hands to the rhythm until they get to the bridge of the song, where she suddenly starts jumping up and down with her fists in the air.

As soon as the song ends, Hunk dives for the computer to hit pause, “Okay, I have to interrupt for a moment so I can introduce tonight’s menu!”

“Thank god,” pants Keith, draping himself pitifully over Lance’s shoulder.

“Sustenance awaits!” Pidge punches the air.

“Okay, if you’ll all follow me…” Hunk ushers them around the corner to the kitchen, “We have dried dates wrapped in turkey bacon. Since Keith and Lance are here, I figured we'd make it a _date night_ ," he grins proudly and everyone else groans, "Anyways, half of them are stuffed with goat cheese and the other half are Pidge’s—”

“How come Pidge gets _half_ when there are four of us!” whines Lance.

“Because you can eat dates _without_ cheese in them but she can’t eat dates _with_ cheese in them,” states Hunk matter-of-factly, “Now if you’ll let me continue, we also have chicken skewers with a variety of sauces. Keith, the red one is the spiciest. Pidge, the white one contains dairy.”

Pidge gives him a thumbs up and Keith grins.

“Next up, we have mango salsa and homemade tortilla chips.”

Keith and Lance high five.

“And some caramel corn,” Hunk glances at Pidge, “ _without_ peanuts.”

Pidge mouths “Yes!”

“And last but certainly not least, we have Jello fishbowls— _Pidge_ , let me finish—made with _vegan_ gelatin,” Hunk beams with pride, “Swedish fish are for me and Lance. Drowning cinnamon bears are for Keith. Pidge, yours is just full of Sour Skittles. Pretend they’re diatoms or something.”

As soon as Hunk finishes, Lance whoops in joy, grabbing a bacon-wrapped date before dashing to restart the music so they can dig into their opening ceremony feast to the tune of Kesha and Shakira.

 

 

**Shiro and Matt | Friday, 6:25pm**

“Honestly, Matt, I don’t know why you’re so dead-set on hooking me up with Allura,” Shiro says over his shoulder, swirling some mushrooms around in a frying pan as he talks.

“Because you’re perfect for each other?” Matt says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Shiro laughs, “Don’t get me wrong, if she asked me to kiss her I wouldn’t turn her down.”

“See!” says Matt.

“…but I don’t really see her that way,” continues Shiro with a shrug, “I have all the respect in the world for her. I’d take a bullet for that woman. But I don’t really see it as a romantic thing, you know?”

“Uh, no? I don’t know?” retorts Matt, “Shiro, you blush every time you talk about her.”

“It’s like… I dunno,” Shiro ducks his head and focuses intently on what he’s cooking, hoping his friend doesn’t notice the tell-take pink on his cheeks, “It’s like an admiration crush.”

“But you’d kiss her,” Matt squints.

“I mean… yeah, sure,” says Shiro, carefully scooping mushrooms onto two plates of pasta, “She’s a cool lady. And she’s gorgeous.”

“But you wouldn’t date her?” Matt inquires.

“Nah,” Shiro shakes his head, pouring cream sauce over his nearly-completed mushroom pasta, “I guess I just have other things in mind for my love life.” His face is thoroughly red by the time he reaches the table, handing Matt his pasta and then taking a seat with his own.

“Wait…” Matt says before shoveling a forkful of pasta into his mouth.

Shiro nibbles contemplatively on a mushroom as he waits for his friend to swallow.

Matt finally gulps down his pasta, “…is there something you’re not telling me? After all these years, there’s something I _don’t know_ about Takashi Shirogane?”

Shiro just gives him a cryptic smile and digs into his own food.

“You’re into someone and it’s not Allura,” muses Matt.

“I can neither confirm nor deny that assertion,” says Shiro.

Matt squints harder, “You only spend time with two people in your own age bracket. Keith and his friends are too young, and Coran and my parents are way too old. Which just leaves Allura and…”

“Never underestimate the deductive reasoning powers of Matt Holt,” says Shiro, a mix of pride and anxiety plastered across his face.

“…me,” Matt concludes, his eyes widening.

Shiro gives a small nod. His face feels warm.

“Which means…” the gears in Matt’s head continue to turn, “That you must have new friends I don’t know about! When did this happen?!”

Shiro grimaces and places his forehead in the palm of the hand not holding his fork.

“Oh,” Matt says more quietly, blinking at Shiro’s reaction, “Oh wait, it… it _is_ me, isn’t it?”

Shiro nods into the palm of his hand.

“Wow,” says Matt, a little breathless, “Cool.”

They finish the rest of their dinner in stunned silence.

 

 

**Intergalactic Olympics | Friday, 7:35pm**

After everyone is finished eating and the chattering has died down, Hunk stands up with his hands on his hips and bellows, “Is everyone ready for the first event of the night?”

“Yeah!” the rest of the group cheers, turning to look at Hunk.

“Good,” Hunk says, “As is customary, we’ll be starting with a rousing game of Trivial Retreat. I have here in my apron…” he rummages around in his apron pocket and pulls out a stack of index cards, “the questions you wrote and gave to me last week. Does everyone remember how this goes?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Keith says, “Draw a card. 30 seconds to answer. You get it right, you keep it. Whoever has the most cards when the deck runs out is the winner.”

“Good summary,” Hunk says with a wide grin, “Okay, we’re already at a table, so let’s just play here. For important snacking reasons.”

“Sounds good to me,” says Pidge.

“Let’s get this party started!” Lance cheers.

“Alright, Lance starts and we go clockwise,” says Hunk, taking his seat and slapping the deck of index cards down in the center of the table, “Pidge and Keith are the timekeepers, as always.”

Lance dances in his seat, “That’s right, baby. I get to go first!”

“Just draw your card,” Keith says, swatting his boyfriend’s shoulder with a playful grin.

“Okay, timer ready?” asks Lance.

“Timer ready,” says Pidge, finger hoovering over her phone in anticipation.

Lance draws his card and reads it aloud, “What is it called when you treat apple slices with a mix of vinegar or lemon juice and water to prevent browning?” He taps his foot and pokes his tongue out a bit while he thinks, then confidently declares, “Acidulation! It’s acidulation!”

“You got it!” Hunk cheers, “Nice job, buddy!”

Lance finger-guns dramatically, then gestures for Pidge to take her turn. Keith readies his phone timer and Pidge draws a card.

“What is Shakira’s country of origin…” she reads, squinting at the card, “I have no earthly clue, but this is obviously a Lance card so I guess I’ll go with Cuba?” She throws her arms up in exasperation.

Lance and Hunk immediately dissolve into hysterical laughter.

“Huh, I always thought she was from the US,” says Keith, setting his phone down with a shrug.

“Colombia!” wheezes Lance, “She’s from Colombia, you heathens!”

“Who even _is_ Shakira?” asks Pidge.

Lance and Hunk are laughing too hard to reply, so Keith responds with a roll of his eyes, “Pidge, we’ve been listening to her all night.”

“Haven’t you ever heard Hips Don’t Lie?” Lance rasps between cackles, “She literally states her name and country of origin _right there in the lyrics_!”

Hunk sits up and tries to regain his composure, “Okay, my turn.”

Keith readies his phone timer and Hunk wipes a few tears from his eyes before drawing a card, “Okay, what is the fastest existing motorcycle… Oh maaaaan, I know this one! I know this!” He grits his teeth and thumps he side of his head with a fist. Finally, moments before time runs out, his face lights up and he shouts, “Dodge Tomahawk! Woo! I love Keith’s motorcycle questions!”

“Heh! You got it. Just in time,” Keith says, “My turn?”

“Timer’s ready when you are,” confirms Pidge.

“Cool,” Keith reaches for a card, “A Porter governor speeds up when the governor moves…” he thinks for a moment, then finishes with a haughty smile, “upwards.”

“Aww maaan, I hate when Keith gets my mechanical engineering questions!” Hunk groans, “Good job, dude.”

“You ready for round two, Lance?” asks Pidge, a little too smug for someone who got her first question wrong.

“Oh, it’s ON!” Lance leans across the table with a determined grin plastered across his face.

 

 

**Shiro and Matt | Friday, 7:47pm**

“So uh… about earlier,” says Shiro cautiously. They’re sitting on the couch, now, faces buried in their phones.

“Yeeeah,” Matt winces, “about that…”

“Sorry if I… made you uncomfortable…” says Shiro, lowering his phone and turning to look at his friend.

Matt’s eyes stay glued to his phone, fingers flying across his screen, “Actually, uh…”

Shiro raises his eyebrows. He can feel himself shaking.

“The thing is…” Matt says, not looking up from whatever game he’s playing, “the attraction isn’t entirely one-sided?”

Shiro blinks. He stares at Matt’s phone-illuminated face for clues, but all he finds is a blank expression as flashes of light dance off his friend’s glasses. He sighs, “Matt, what are you talking about? You’ve been trying to hook me up with Allura for almost half a decade, now.”

Matt doesn’t look up, but his expression does shift to a small frown, “I figured you’d be good for each other.”

Shiro matches his friend’s frown and reaches out a cautious hand to place on his shoulder, “So… what do you wanna do?”

Matt finally sets down his phone, though he doesn’t quite make eye contact with Shiro. “I… kinda wanna kiss you right now?” he says in a small voice.

Shiro smiles softly, “We can do that.” He reaches his left hand up to cup Matt’s jaw, gently closing the distance between them until their lips meet in a tentative kiss.

After they separate, Matt dissolves into quiet giggles.

Shiro smiles and brushes his friend’s cheek with the back of his hand, “What’s so funny?”

“We’ve just,” Matt takes a deep breath to compose himself (a few more giggles escape before he can speak again), “We’ve been friends for almost a decade, now. And we know basically everything about each other, but not—not what it’s like to kiss each other. Except now we do!”

“Now we do,” repeats Shiro fondly, leaning forward to plant a soft kiss on Matt’s forehead.

 

 

**Intergalactic Olympics | Friday, 9:02pm**

“Your turn, Hunk,” says Keith, finger hoovering over his phone timer.

Hunk sweats as he plucks a card from the rapidly-shrinking stack. He groans as soon as he sees the handwriting, “Oh nooooo it’s a Pidge question! Uh… What is the name of the data reduction technique that groups together variables with similar data characteristics?” he squints anxiously at the card, “Uggghhh this sounds so familiar, why can’t I think of it? Errrrggghhh… Cluster Analysis! It’s cluster analysis! _Thank you_ statistics class!”

Everyone looks to Pidge for confirmation.

Pidge shrugs, “He got it.”

“Aww man,” Lance whines, “I can’t believe Hunk is creaming us all in this game _again_!”

“I can,” grumbles Pidge, chin resting on her own knees as she rocks side-to-side in her chair, “He’s the only one here who can consistently answer engineering questions and Lance’s inane pop culture and skin care trivia.”

“Can I… take my turn?” asks Keith impatiently.

“Oh. Yeah, timer ready,” Pidge says, grabbing her phone.

Keith picks up a card and squints at it a moment before reading it, “Is toothpaste an effective… acne remedy? What the _hell_ , Lance? No! Why would you put that on your face!?”

Lance makes an exaggerated buzzer noise, “Wroooong!”

“How is that wrong?” challenges Keith, “Why would you put toothpaste on your face? How can that possibly help _anything_?”

“It’s a very common emergency acne remedy!” argues Lance, “I’ve used it myself and it works wonders!”

“That’s purely anecdotal,” retorts Keith, “I need hard facts.”

“It’s got like… baking soda and hydrogen peroxide and stuff in it,” Lance says, standing up and crossing his arms, “It’s very soothing!”

Keith stands up too, facing off with Lance, “It’s completely anecdotal and kind of gross.”

“There are real chemicals in it that really work!” Lance sticks his nose in the air.

“Uh, guys?” Hunk speaks up nervously, “I think it’s time to consult Secret Rule 1-B: In case of disagreements, consult a neutral third party.”

“Yes, _please_ ,” Pidge says, pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance.

“Where the hell are we gonna find a neutral third party at almost 9pm?” retorts Keith.

“Uh… your brother?” suggests Hunk.

“Hey!” protests Lance, “That’s not a neutral third party! He’d be biased towards Keith!”

“Have you _met_ my brother?” snorts Keith, “He’s like… the most compulsively honest person I’ve ever met.”

“Lawful good,” says Pidge with a shrug.

Lance squints suspiciously at Keith for several seconds before shrugging and sitting down, “Okay fine, let’s text Shiro. He seems like he takes good care of his face.”

 

 

**Shiro and Matt | Friday, 9:23pm**

Shiro doesn’t notice when his phone buzzes. He’s too wrapped up in the weight of Matt’s head against his stomach and the feel of his strawberry-blond hair between his fingers. They’ve relocated to the bedroom, and Matt is now reclined in Shiro’s lap, allowing his friend to run his hands pensively through his hair.

Matt is the first to speak, “Are you as scared as I am?”

Shiro looks down at his friend’s worried expression, “About this? Yeah.”

“That’s weirdly reassuring,” Matt says shakily, “because I’m fucking terrified.”

Shiro reaches down and plants his right hand firmly against Matt’s chest with a mechanical creak. “Your friendship is irreplaceable,” he says, soft but serious, “What we’ve been through together… that’s a connection we’ll never have with anyone else.”

“Yeah,” muses Matt, reaching up to hold Shiro’s hand against his own chest, “Yeah, exactly. It’s not every day you survive a plane crash with your best friend.”

“Do you still wanna do this?” asks Shiro gently.

“Mm…” Matt looks up to meet Shiro’s eyes. A small, frightened smile grows on his face, “Yeah. Yeah, why not? What do we have to lose, right?” He laughs nervously.

“Yeah, what do we have to lose?” Shiro replies, “You know. Besides everything.”

They look into each other’s eyes for a moment before Matt stammers, “I-is this the part where we kiss each other?”

“It most certainly can be,” Shiro says, helping his friend into an upright position, resting one hand at the nape of his neck. He flicks his eyes over Matt’s face, then whispers, “You ready?”

Matt gives a small nod.

Shiro leans in and presses his lips against Matt’s. Matt parts his lips a little on impact and Shiro takes it as an invitation to deepen the kiss, pushing his body against Matt’s as he does so. Matt responds by leaning backwards and gripping the back of Shiro’s shirt in his fists.

Eventually Matt leans a little too far backwards and they both collapse onto the bed, laughing and blushing. Once their laughter subsides, Shiro gently adjusts Matt’s wildly-askew glasses and whispers, “You know you’re still my best friend, right?”

“Yeah,” replies Matt with an ear-to-ear grin, “I know.”

“Good,” says Shiro, wrapping his arms around Matt and burying his face between his neck and shoulder.

 

 

**Intergalactic Olympics | Friday, 10:21pm**

“Keith, it’s your turn,” says Pidge, hugging her legs.

Keith is preoccupied, pacing around the kitchen with his own phone in his hands. His face is flushed and his jaw is clenched.

“C’mon, babe,” coaxes Lance, yawning and patting Keith’s abandoned chair, “Just take your turn. It’s the last card. We’re almost done.”

Keith grunts and strides over to grab a card (without sitting down or letting go of his phone). He reads in a monotone, “Which operation takes more than O(1) time with the Hash Table data structure? I have no idea what this even means.” He slaps his card down on the table and resumes his pacing.

Pidge bobs her head impatiently until the timer runs out, then states matter-of-factly, “It’s sort.”

Hunk yawns, “And thus we conclude this year’s game of Trivial Retreat. Everyone count your cards.”

“But what about—” Lance begins to object.

“Just count your cards,” Pidge says dryly, “It might not even matter.”

Lance pouts but sets to work counting his cards anyways.

\---------------

As it turns out, Lance and Keith’s disputed card doesn’t affect the outcome of the game at all. Hunk dominated the game with 23 cards, with Lance and Pidge tying for second place at 19 cards each and Keith losing with only 14.

“Okay, everyone’s tired so I vote we clean up the kitchen and then go get some rest,” announces Hunk, yawning again and drowsily pulling a stack of Tupperware from the cabinet.

Keith is gone before Hunk even finishes speaking.

“Uh, bye Keith,” deadpans Pidge.

Lance stares after his boyfriend with worry on his face, “D’you guys think he’s okay?”

“Why don’t you go check?” suggests Pidge, suppressing a yawn of her own, “I’m gonna go hang out with my computer for a while.”

“Is anyone gonna stay and help with—” Hunk starts to ask, but everyone is already on their way out of the kitchen.

\---------------

Lance finds Keith on the couch, laying on his back with his phone in his hands. Lance sighs dramatically and nudges his way onto the couch next to his boyfriend’s feet, “Hey babe.”

Keith grunts.

“Are you uh… still upset about the toothpaste thing?” Lance asks timidly.

Keith huffs, “No.”

“Oh,” says Lance, “Uh… That’s good, ‘cause toothpaste or no toothpaste, I beat you fair and square!”

Keith lets out a halfhearted groan and stretches his legs out so they’re draped across Lance’s.

Lance takes this as a peace offering of sorts and scoots closer. After a few minutes of watching his boyfriend stare and tap forlornly at his phone, Lance asks softly, “Is this about Shiro?”

Keith lets out a frustrated roar and flings his phone across the room.

“…I’ll take that as a yes?” Lance says, a bit stunned.

Keith just crosses his arms. His face is red with frustration.

“Maybe he just… didn’t get your text?” Lance suggests, “Y’know, ‘cause phones are dumb sometimes. D’you wanna text him again to make sure?”

Keith takes a deep breath and loosens his muscles a bit, which Lance takes as a hopeful sign.

“Should I uh… go get that for you?” Lance asks, pointing across the room at Keith’s phone.

Keith shrugs and moves his legs out of the way, allowing Lance to get up and retrieve his phone. Once he has his phone back, he inspects it for damage and then opens up his texting app to send Shiro another message…

> _Keith (10:47pm): Hey Shiro, did you get my last message?_
> 
> _Keith (10:49pm): It’s not a big deal because I lost the game anyways. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay._
> 
> _Keith (10:55pm): You are okay, right?_
> 
> _Keith (10:56pm): You’re probably asleep._
> 
> _Keith (10:57pm): But since when do you sleep at 10pm?_
> 
> _Keith (11:00pm): If you get this, can you let me know you’re okay?_
> 
> _Keith (11:02pm): Are you getting these?_
> 
> _Keith (11:06pm): Shiro, are you alright?_
> 
> _Keith (11:07pm): Agghhh why do I keep sending these? I’m probably just bothering you._
> 
> _Keith (11:08pm): Sorry Shiro_
> 
> _Keith (11:09pm): I’m just really worried_
> 
> _Keith (11:12pm): Please let me know you’re okay as soon as you get these_
> 
> _Keith (11:15pm): Are you mad at me?_
> 
> _Keith (11:16pm): Shiro?_

 

**Shiro and Matt| Friday, 11:07pm**

Matt is awoken by a chorus of buzzing. He blinks groggily and reaches across Shiro to grab whichever of their phones is responsible for the annoyance.

It’s Shiro’s.

Matt sighs and squints at the lock screen to see an ever-growing list of texts from Keith. He glances back and forth between the still-buzzing phone and Shiro’s sleeping face a few times before shoving the offending device under an unused pillow and pulling out his own phone.

> _Matt (11:10pm): pidge_
> 
> _Matt (11:10pm): pidgey_
> 
> _Matt (11:10pm): pigeon poop_
> 
> _Matt (11:11pm): my dearest sister_
> 
> _Matt (11:11pm): is keith at your house?_
> 
> _Matt (11:11pm): please help him with whatever crisis he’s having before he wakes shiro up with all these text messages_
> 
> **Pidge (11:14pm): Yeah yeah, I’m on it.**
> 
> **Pidge (11:14pm): Also, why are you at Shiro’s house?**
> 
> _Matt (11:15pm): because he’s my best friend and I haven’t seen him in over a month?_
> 
> **Pidge (11:55pm): He’s asleep.**
> 
> _Matt (11:16pm): we’ve been sleeping at each other’s houses since you were like 12_
> 
> _Matt (11:16pm): how is this news to you_
> 
> **Pidge (11:17pm): It’s not. It’s just my sisterly duty to draw attention to it every time it happens.**
> 
> _Matt (11:17pm): go fix keith before he self-destructs_
> 
> **Pidge (11:17pm): *salutes***
> 
> **Pidge (11:18pm): Have a nice sleepover! ;)**

Matt tucks his phone away and curls back around Shiro’s warm body, sleepily draping an arm across his chest and nuzzling up to his shoulder.

 

 

**Intergalactic Olympics | Friday, 11:20pm**

Pidge comes stomping down the hall, now in her pajamas, and rips Keith’s phone out of his hands, “I’m confiscating this until further notice.”

“Hey!” protests Keith, scrambling into an upright position and reaching for his phone.

“My inside source tells me your brother is asleep. You can stop flooding his phone with neurotic text messages, now,” says Pidge.

“Inside source?” asks Lance, raising an eyebrow.

“Strictly confidential,” says Pidge, crossing her arms.

“Is your inside source a _robot_?” asks a wide-eyed Lance.

“Maybe,” Pidge says cryptically, “Maybe not.”

“What’s going on?” Hunk asks, sleepily rounding the corner to the living room.

“Keith needs a distraction,” Lance says definitively.

“Oh, uh…” Hunk yawns, “What about a movie? That sounds nice and… relaxing…” His voice trails off. There’s a bit of drool trickling from the corner of his mouth.

“That’s a great idea!” agrees Lance.

“Can somebody else do the… picking?” Hunk says, flopping down beside Lance on the couch and closing his eyes, “I’m beat.” Moments later he’s snoring.

“I think we overworked Hunk,” says Lance, poking at his best friend, “Sorry buddy.”

“So what’re we watching?” asks Pidge, rocking back and forth impatiently. She already has Netflix pulled up on the TV.

“Keith?” asks Lance.

Keith makes a noncommittal sound.

“Welp, guess I get to decide!” declares Lance, “Pidge, what Pokémon movies are on Netflix?”

“Clash of the Ages and the Diancie one,” Pidge replies.

“Put on Clash of the Ages,” Lance says.

“Roger that,” Pidge complies with his request.

\---------------

Fifteen minutes into the movie, Keith is sound asleep in Lance’s lap and Lance looks like he won’t be far behind. Pidge walks over to slide Keith’s phone onto Lance’s lap before curling up in the nearby armchair.

 

 

**Shiro and Matt | Saturday, 7:10am**

“Hey,” murmurs Shiro as Matt’s eyes flutter open, “Good morning.”

“Mmmmmph,” Matt yawns and stretches, “Was… was last night even real?”

Shiro brings his left hand up to sleepily rub Matt’s shoulder, “Yeah. It was real. This is real.”

“Holy shit,” Matt whispers.

“You still okay with this?” asks Shiro.

“Yeah,” says Matt without hesitation, nuzzling his face into Shiro’s collarbone, “Yeah.”

“I’m glad,” Shiro whispers into Matt’s mess of bedhead.

They lay there like that for a while until Matt breaks the silence with a groan, “Ugh, my back is killing me.”

“Would you like a back rub?” asks Shiro. It’s a perfectly benign question. Shiro had given Matt dozens of back rubs over the course of their friendship. But Matt still blushes as he nods and sits up.

“Okay, give me a second to attach my arm and find some pain relief creme… and a _glove_ , because I never want to clean Aspercreme out of my prosthetic again for as long as I live,” Shiro makes a face and crawls out of bed.

Matt laughs and gives him a thumbs up, pulling out his phone to check the internet until Shiro returns.

“You ready?” asks Shiro, waving a tube of Aspercreme in his gloved right hand.

“Yeah!” Matt sets down his phone, “I guess I should uh… take my shirt off, huh?” He blushes again. What had once seemed like a run-of-the-mill action suddenly seems so… intimate. Or maybe it’s always been intimate and they’d just never been consciously aware of it.

“Yeah, probably,” says Shiro, “Or uh… I could help?” His fingers hoover at the base of Matt’s shirt, so close that Matt can feel them shaking.

Matt nods, silently granting permission, and Shiro gently slides his shirt off. After setting the shirt aside, Shiro leans forward, gently wrapping his arms around Matt’s torso and kissing his shoulder.

Matt takes a shaky breath.

“Is it okay if I leave marks?” whispers Shiro.

“G-go for it,” Matt stammers.

Shiro smiles and kisses Matt’s shoulder again, this time harder. Matt whimpers and leans into the kiss.

“This isn’t a back rub,” teases Matt.

“Hang on, I’m getting to it,” Shiro retorts softly.

“Take your time,” Matt smiles.

\---------------

The promised back rub does eventually happen, but it’s interrupted halfway through by a muffled buzz.

“Is that my phone?” asks Shiro.

“Well, it’s not mine,” confirms Matt.

“Where is it?” Shiro looks around the bed, puzzled, then shrugs, “I’ll just get it after I’m done.”

“Actually, uh…” Matt grins sheepishly, “Maybe you should check that now?”

Shiro narrows his eyes, “Do you know something I don’t, Matt?”

“Maybe?” Matt squeaks, “Your uh… your phone is under the pillow over there.” He points.

Shiro sighs, taking the nitrile glove off his right hands and wiping his left hand on his pants before retrieving his phone. “Ohhh nooo,” Shiro groans, “The buzz was just an app reminding me to drink water, but Keith. Last night. Ohhhh no.”

Matt laughs nervously, “I uh… I told Pidge to deal with it.”

Shiro sighs, “Please wake me up next time.”

“Sorry…”

“You’re fine,” Shiro reaches out to give Matt’s knee a reassuring squeeze, since his shoulders are currently covered in Aspercreme, “Just… for future reference.”

Matt nods but still looks guilty.

“I’m gonna text Keith, now. It’ll be fine,” Shiro says, tapping at his phone.

> _Shiro (7:51am): Hey Keith, sorry I didn’t get your messages last night. I was spending time with someone and not paying attention to my phone._
> 
> _Shiro (7:51am): I’m here, now. I’ll turn my volume on so I can hear if you text me._
> 
> **Keith (7:52am): spending time, or spending time BIBLICALLY? *eyebrow waggle***

Shiro sighs.

> _Shiro (7:52am): Lance, please give Keith’s phone back._
> 
> **Keith (7:52am): no can do-zin, he’s a-snoozin**
> 
> _Shiro (7:53am): Well then, put the phone down._
> 
> _Shiro (7:53am): And let him know he has a message from me when he wakes up._

“I’m disappointed in you,” whispers Matt, looking over Shiro’s shoulder as he types.

“What? Why?” Shiro asks.

“ _Biblically_?” Mat raises his eyebrows, “There’s a joke in there somewhere. There’s gotta be. About the collective lack of Bibles in our lives. Think about it. So much potential.”

Shiro sighs again, “There’s a joke in there about my _assumed sex life_ , and I’m not comfortable discussing that with my brother’s boyfriend. On my brother’s phone. Via text message.”

“But just think about it—”

“No,” says Shiro definitively. His phone dings.

> **Lance (7:55am): you still didn’t answer my queeestion ;D**

Matt opens his mouth, “What about—”

“The fact that Lance is texting me from his own phone now doesn’t change my answer.”

Matt rests his chin on Shiro’s shoulder and pouts.

 

 

**Intergalactic Olympics | Saturday, 7:53am**

Keith wakes up to the sound of Lance cackling to himself, “Ung, Lance. What’s so funny? Wait, is that my phone? Why do you have my—wait! Did Shiro text back?! Give me that!” Keith scrambles upright and snatches his phone out of Lance’s hands, frantically scrolling up to see Shiro’s response.

Lance just cackles harder and pulls out his own phone.

“Spending time with someone…” Keith repeats quietly to himself, scrunching his eyebrows together.

“Oh good, everybody’s awake!” booms Hunk’s friendly voice. Keith, Lance and Pidge (all in the same places they fell asleep the night prior) look up from their phones to see Hunk standing before them with a tray of croissants. “I hope you’re hungry, because I made breakfast.” He sets the tray down on the coffee table and then scampers off to retrieve some apple slices and cinnamon butter from the kitchen.

“Whoooaaa, this looks delicious buddy!” exclaims Lance, digging in immediately by scooping up as much cinnamon butter as possible with a croissant.

“Oh, thanks Hunk,” says Keith, grabbing a croissant to nibble at as he stares pensively at his phone.

“Sooo, what did Shiro have to say?” inquires Pidge, taking alternating bites of apple and croissant.

“Oh, did you get a reply finally?” asks Hunk as he transforms his breakfast components into a surprisingly elegant cinnamon-apple sandwich.

“He told Keith he missed his texts because he was _spending time with someone_ ,” says Lance, putting on his most exaggeratedly flirtatious face.

“Oh my god,” Pidge moves to cover her mouth but mostly just smashes a half-eaten croissant into her face. She continues as if that didn’t just happen, “Oh my god, it’s my _brother_.”

“What? How?” asks Hunk around a mouthful of croissant sandwich.

Pidge grins deviously, “Matt was texting me from Shiro’s house last night after Shiro fell asleep.”

“Awww, your super-secret inside source isn’t a robot?” pouts Lance.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Keith argues, “They share a bed all the time. Heck, I crash in Shiro’s bed all the time, too. And I’m pretty sure Pidge has shared a bed with him at _least_ twice. What makes this any different?”

“So then why did he say he was spending time with _someone_ instead of just spending time with _Matt_?” inquires Hunk.

“Exactly!” Lance crunches down on an apple to emphasize his point, “Plus, why would a routine night with his buddy distract him from responding to Keith’s texts? I mean, Keith is like the most important person in Shiro’s life!”

“He probably just meant they were busy catching up,” Keith retorts, oddly defensive, “They haven’t seen each other in a while because Matt’s dissertation is eating him alive.”

“I’ll make you a bet,” Pidge says, pounding a $20 bill down on the coffee table, “You go over there and check on them right now. Unannounced. With the tiny webcam I’m about to equip you with. If nothing’s different, I owe you $20. If there’s any evidence of romance or other such shenanigans, you owe me. Deal?”

“Deal,” says Keith.

“Welp, while you guys do that,” says Lance, taking a bite of croissant mid-sentence and talking as he chews, “I’ll get to work setting up The Obstacle Course.”

“Ohhh, I hate The Obstacle Course!” groans Hunk.

“That’s what you get for obliterating us all in Trivial Retreat two years in a row,” says Lance with an unrepentant shrug. He then turns to Keith, “You better be ready for some obstacles when you come back, babe, because this one’s gonna be a _doozy_!”

“Alright,” says Keith, cracking a small smile, “Don’t worry, I’ll come back ready to defend my title.”

“Love you, Keithy,” says Lance, pulling his boyfriend into a tight hug.

“I’ll be back in like an hour,” says Keith.

“Just humor me, babe,” says Lance.

Keith chuckles and returns the hug, “Love you too, Lance.”

 

 

**Shiro and Matt | Saturday, 9:05am**

Shiro is running a hand lazily through Matt’s hair when they hear the creak of the front door and both sit bolt upright.

“Keeeith…” Shiro groans under his breath, putting his face in his hands.

“Why is your brother—” Matt starts to whisper, but he’s interrupted by Shiro’s bedroom door clicking open.

“Can I help you, Keith?” asks Shiro, his tone calm but laced with tired annoyance.

Keith locks eyes with Matt, “You better be wearing pants under there.”

“Of course I’m wearing pants!” Matt says, throwing the blankets off his lap, “What are we, animals?”

“Well, you’re not wearing a shirt,” says Keith, blunt and vicious, “You have a hickey or three on your shoulder, by the way.”

Matt blushes and pulls the nearest blanket over his shoulders like a cloak.

“Anyways, I guess I owe Pidge $20,” Keith mutters bitterly.

“Aha! I should’ve known my sister had something to do with—”

“Keith,” Shiro interjects calmly, placing a firm hand on Matt’s shoulder, “May I have a talk with you outside?”

Keith glares at Matt for a few seconds longer before sighing, “Fine.”

“I’ll be right back, Matt,” Shiro says gently, giving his friend’s arm a gentle squeeze before getting up to usher Keith out of the room.

“What was _that_ , Keith?” asks Shiro as soon as they reach the living room, “Why are you even here?”

“I made a bet with Pidge,” responds Keith in a near-monotone.

“You’re angry at Matt,” observes Shiro.

“Why would I be angry at Matt?” Keith growls.

“I have a pretty good theory,” says Shiro.

“Would you like to share?” huffs Keith.

“No,” says Shiro, “Because I’d like you to think this one through for yourself. Why do you think you’re angry at Matt?”

“I never said I _was_ angry at Matt,” Keith retorts.

“And yet you clearly are,” Shiro says, “So I’d like you tell me why.”

Shiro watches his brother’s face melt from surly to vulnerable as the gears turn in his head. After a minute or so, the younger boy admits in a strained voice, “I don’t want him to take you away from me.”

Shiro’s face softens as he pulls Keith into a hug, “Keith, I’m gonna ask you two things and I want you to answer them without arguing.”

Keith nods into his shoulder.

“First,” says Shiro, “You have a boyfriend, right?”

Keith nods again.

“Does your relationship with Lance make me any less important to you?”

“Of course not!” Keith says, tightening his grip on his brother.

“Exactly,” Shiro says, “Now, second. Matt has been my best friend for almost ten years. Has my friendship with him ever interfered with how much I care about you?”

Keith has to think a little longer about this question, but after a moment of thought he sighs, “I guess not.”

“I _promise_ not,” Shiro reaches up to stroke his brother’s hair, “and me kissing Matt isn’t gonna change that.”

“You didn’t answer my texts last night,” says Keith, his voice cracking, “I really needed you.”

“Keith, Matt and I were in the middle of an important conversation,” explains Shiro, “It won’t be like that every night. We just had some figuring out to do. This is new for us, too, after all.”

Keith pulls away from the hug, looking sullen, “I’m still angry.”

Shiro puts a hand on his shoulder, “And that’s okay. Just don’t take it out on Matt. Take some time to process. Let off some steam with your spring break… Olympics thing. We can all talk about this over Chinese buffet food after you’ve had a few days to stop hating Matt.”

Keith takes a deep breath, “Okay.”

“Now get back to your friends,” Shiro says, nudging his brother towards the door, “I’m sure they’re missing you.”

“Okay, okay,” Keith grumbles as he opens the door. Just before he closes the door behind himself, he hesitantly calls out, “I love you, Shiro.”

“Love you too, kiddo!” Shiro calls back, “Go kick some butts in… whatever weird game you guys have planned for today.”

As soon as Keith is gone, Shiro lets out a deep breath and returns to his room, where Matt (now with a shirt and glasses on) is sitting on his bed playing phone games.

“Hey,” Shiro murmurs as he sits down, reaching a hand out to gently brush Matt’s cheek.

“He hates me, doesn’t he?” says Matt, setting down his phone and looking up at Shiro with worried eyes.

Shiro shakes his head, “No. Well… not really. He thinks he does right now, but he’ll cool down. He’s just scared of losing me.”

“Was that supposed to be reassuring?” Matt snorts.

Shiro laughs and pulls Matt towards himself, pressing their foreheads together, “No, it was supposed to be the truth.”

“Lawful good to the very end,” chuckles Matt before planting a kiss on the scarred bridge of Shiro’s nose.

“Nerd,” says Shiro, pulling away with a smile, “What d’you want for breakfast?”

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I should remind you all that I started this AU series with absolutely no intentions of even including Matt as a character, much less shipping him with anyone. As you can see, things didn't quite go according to plan.
> 
> If you wanna come say hi, I'm [Agapostemon](https://agapostemon.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr!
> 
> Also: Please remember that I write purely for fun and catharsis. My fics are unbeta’d and minimally proofread. They’re not perfect, and that’s okay. If you notice something I could fix or improve, please keep those thoughts to yourself. If I genuinely want critique, I’ll ask a close friend in private. **Surprise critiques are very stressful and discouraging.** Thanks for understanding!


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